If You Dare: A Hockey Bully Romance

Violet

I don’t realize I’m on a double date until the four of us are already at the carnival, stars barely visible above the yellow and purple lights and the fully illuminated Ferris wheel.

Ahead of me, Chloe laughs flirtatiously at something Luke says, her head tipping back. At my side, Wes stays quiet, the air between us charged. I bet he didn’t have any idea about Chloe’s surprise double date either.

I loop my arm through hers and pull her away from the guys toward the cotton candy stand. “What happened to ‘don’t date my brother’? Now you’re playing Cupid?”

Chloe rolls her eyes dramatically, pulling out a few crumpled bills for cotton candy as if that’s actually why I brought her over here. “Who did you want me to set you up with instead? Trey?”

My stomach twists. Definitely not Trey.

She reads my expression. “That’s what I thought. You know Wes, and you’re comfortable with him. I figured you wouldn’t be totally miserable hanging out with him.”

I don’t know how she can think I’m comfortable with Wes. I’m on edge every time I’m around him, palms slick and stomach twisted into knots.

But I guess she’s right on some level. I’m comfortable enough to talk to Wes. I don’t worry over every word that leaves my mouth the way I do with nearly everyone else. I even flirt with Wes, and I’ve never successfully done that with anyone before.

Maybe I’ve become more comfortable with him than I realized.

“But why do we even need to be here? Wouldn’t you rather be alone with Luke?”

“No, I want my best friend with me, silly.” She flashes me her winning smile. “But I didn’t want you to be a third wheel.”

“What can I get you?” the pimply teenager asks from the cotton candy stand.

“A pink and a blue, please,” Chloe tells him.

“I hope you’re not planning on paying for that yourself,” Luke says, stepping up beside Chloe.

I smile. I still don’t know him well enough, but if I had to pick someone who might be good enough for Chloe, it would be Luke.

A hand flattens against the small of my back. Wes.

Warmth radiates from him. He’s so handsome with his clean-cut, onyx hair, bright blue eyes, and hockey jacket emblazoned with his number three.

Chloe has no idea the trouble she’s causing. If she wants to keep me and Wes from falling for each other, she’s doing a pretty terrible job of keeping us apart.

His hand on me is at once comforting and arousing. I love when he touches me like he owns me. I long to be his. To belong to him.

To my surprise, Luke pays for Chloe’s cotton candy and Wes pays for mine.

“You don’t have to do that,” I object. This isn’t a real date. We were both tricked into being here.

“Yes, he does,” Chloe corrects, ripping off a chunk of her cotton candy and feeding it to Luke, who opens his mouth with a grin. They’re already so cute together.

“Yeah, I do,” Wes agrees. “Especially because I’m about to eat half of it.”

“Good,” I whisper. “I actually don’t like cotton candy.”

Chloe lets out a horrified gasp, even though I hoped she wouldn’t hear me. “Who doesn’t like cotton candy?”

“Crazy people,” Luke says, the two of them leading the way.

Once they’re safely out of hearing range, I ask Wes, “Can you just eat it for me?”

He flashes a wicked grin. “I’ll eat whatever you want me to eat.”

My cheeks burn, and I shove the cotton candy into his hand. Now I can’t stop thinking about Wes pulling me away to a dark, private corner and kneeling before me, his tongue between my legs.

We hop on every spinning and swinging ride we can until Chloe complains that if she rides one more, she’s going to puke pink, even though she’s the one who insists on hitting every ride.

When we reach the row of carnival games, Chloe spots a stuffed duck and challenges Wes to compete with her for it.

“Aren’t you supposed to win a goldfish?” Luke asks.

“All out of goldfish,” the bearded carnival worker informs us in a monotone.

Chloe and Wes shout and groan as they toss ping-pong balls, failing to dunk them through the tiny rings. These are the moments when it’s painfully obvious that they’re brother and sister. Other than their vibrant blue eyes, they couldn’t look more dissimilar. But that competitive streak runs in the family.

“I really like her,” Luke admits to me, his hands buried in his pockets. “Wes won’t like it because no one’s good enough for his little sister, but I know he’d rather her date me than any of the other assholes on the team.”

“She likes you too.” I know she wouldn’t mind me saying so. She’s made her attraction to Luke obvious. Knowing her, she’s already told him exactly how she feels. Hell, she was probably the one to ask him out. And she didn’t even need me to dare her to do it.

Chloe is the kind of girl I’ve always wanted to be but never had the guts to try.

Until now, maybe. Being her friend has made me believe I can do anything. I can finally write that book. I can flirt with a guy as out of my league as Wes. As long as I have Chloe by my side, I can be brave.

“I know you’ve probably already gotten this from Wes, but if you hurt her, I will kill you.”

Luke gives me an easy smile, as if he knew this conversation was coming. “I’d be more worried about her hurting me. I’ve been trying not to scare her off by coming on too strong, but Chloe’s pretty much the girl of my dreams.”

My heart squeezes, so unbelievably happy for my best friend.

“Violet!” Chloe calls. “I need you to tap in for me.”

Wes flashes me his heart-stopping grin. My stomach flips.

I take Chloe’s spot beside him. “I’ve got a deal for you, little flower,” Wes murmurs in my ear. “Winner gets to come tonight.”

“What—”

But Wes is already tossing ping-pong balls at the rings, Chloe screaming at me from behind to win.

Did he really say what I think he did? I’m not sure if he meant it or if he just wanted to fluster me so I would lose.

Either way, I’ve never been more motivated to win a game in my life.

I grab a ping-pong ball and toss it. It bounces off the ring with a clink. Before it hits the ground, I’m tossing another.

It sinks through the hoop.

Behind me, Chloe screams and cheers, jumping up and down.

“It’s three to win the duck,” Wes reminds her.

She stops jumping and whines. The carnival worker reaches for the stuffed duck and hands it to Chloe. “You can take the duck as long as the four of you get far away from me.”

Chloe beams, not giving a single shit about the insult.

“We gotta get you playing beer pong,” Luke tells me before wrapping an arm around Chloe’s waist. “Are you happy you got your duck?”

“It’s Violet’s duck. She won it. But yes.” She beams. “Ducks are my favorite animal.”

“Ducks aren’t anybody’s favorite animal,” Wes says.

“Well, they’re mine.” She sticks her tongue out at him. “They make gliding across the water look effortless, but beneath the surface, they’re paddling frantically. That’s how I feel on the ice. I spent years falling and bleeding to get where I am, but when I’m back on the ice, every bruise and scar is worth it. I don’t want to be anywhere else. They’re at home in the water, and I’m at home on the ice.”

She does make it look effortless. Every time I watch Chloe skate, I’m mesmerized. She dances across the slippery surface like it’s second nature.

“That’s how I feel about writing,” I tell her.

She smiles at me. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why we’re such great friends. We understand each other’s drive, our relentless pursuit of our passions.

“You should let me read one of your stories sometime.” Wes smiles at me.

“Just kiss already,” Chloe calls to us, rolling her eyes. I freeze, even though I know she’s joking. Until she flashes a devilish smile. “I dare you.”

Shock and dread seize me.

What the hell is she doing? Why is she pushing me and Wes together when she keeps claiming she doesn’t want us dating? Of course I want to kiss him—I want to do a lot more than that with him—but I don’t want it to happen in front of an audience.

I dare a glance at Wes, the smile vanished from his face.

But I haven’t backed down from a dare yet.

He wanted to kiss me that day at the beach. He said the winner gets to come tonight. He wants me. I know he does.

I take a step toward him, and his eyes widen before he retreats. The word that comes out of his mouth stops me in my tracks. “No.”

Mortification washes over me at the rejection. The public rejection, right in front of Chloe and Luke.

How could I have read Wes so wrong? I completely misinterpreted his signals. My cheeks flame, and Chloe’s eyes widen for a second—just long enough to give away the horror at my humiliation—before she grabs Luke’s hand and announces, “Let’s go! I need funnel cake.”

I follow Chloe and Luke around the carnival in silence, forcing a smile whenever Chloe attempts to include me in the conversation. Staying as far from Wes as I can get.

I’ve known from the beginning that he would never go for a girl like me. I was stupid to think him flirting with me was anything more than a fun way for him to pass the time. He’s never actually been interested in me; he’s just been humoring his sister and being friendly. Nothing more.

The carnival is closing in fifteen minutes, and I’m counting down the seconds until I can escape.

“Let’s go on the Ferris wheel before they shut it down!” Chloe calls.

“Heights freak me out. You guys go.” I wave them on, grateful for a chance to be alone.

“No way.” Chloe shakes her head. “You’re coming with us.”

“If I get that high in the air, my heart will explode—”

“I dare you!” she shouts, laughing and running for the Ferris wheel. Full of a light that can never be snuffed out.

Her joy makes me smile, even with the sour turn this night has taken.

The four of us wait in line, and when Chloe and Luke climb into the pod, she shuts the door behind them.

Leaving me alone with Wes.

The operator sticks us in the next empty pod, and the silence is suffocating.

My heart pounds as we rise slowly. God, I hope we don’t get stuck at the top. This night could not have gone any worse.

Wes wraps a protective arm around my shoulders, and I’m instantly enveloped in his scent, his warmth. “You’re okay,” he murmurs.

“You’re the last person I want to comfort me right now. I would suggest scooting as far away from me as you can because I might puke.” I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping the nausea in my belly will go away if I can’t see how high up we are. If I forget about Wes’s horrified face when I moved in to kiss him. No.

His fingers brush my cheek, forcing my face toward his. “Look at me.”

Even though the last thing I want to do is see him, the rejection and pity etched into his features more nauseating than the ground far below our feet, I do as he says.

He pulls me closer, the side of my body flush against his. He’s so warm, smelling deliciously of cedarwood, and I want to get lost in the smell and feel of him. His blue eyes bore into mine, and he cradles my jaw, rubbing his thumb back and forth across my cheek.

“Just keep your eyes on me and you won’t feel scared.”

My chest caves in, wanting nothing more than to let him comfort me. To let him be my safe harbor. But he doesn’t want me the way I want him.

“I’d rather feel scared,” I whisper.

He swallows, and there’s a flicker of something new in his eyes. Regret.

“I wanted to kiss you.” His grip on my jaw tightens yet somehow remains tender. My heart stops. “But I didn’t want to do it on a dare. I want it to be real.”

I wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t misreading the signs. I haven’t been imagining this. Wes really does want me. As much as I want him.

I’m barely able to force the words out, my heart caught in my throat. “Me too.”

He examines every inch of my face before his thumb brushes across my bottom lip. I can’t help myself—I let out a small, involuntary gasp.

“I don’t do sweet and gentle,” he warns. “If you’re looking for a prince, he’s not me. I want my belt around your throat. I want to fuck you so hard, your nails leave scars on my back. If I kiss you, you’re mine.”

Liquid heat pools between my legs. I’m half-aroused, half-terrified by his words. But I know what I want.

“I want to be yours,” I breathe.

That’s all he needs to hear. He grips my hair and pulls me to him, our lips meeting halfway in a collision that makes fireworks burst in my brain. My stomach somersaults as his soft lips move over mine, my panties growing damp when his tongue slips past my lips. I can’t breathe. Can’t think about anything but the feel of his mouth on mine.

When he emits a sound that’s halfway between a groan and a growl, I melt.

“Fuck.” The word is hoarse leaving his throat, a curse and a prayer. “I hope you know what you’ve just unleashed, little flower. You’re not going anywhere now.”

There’s no going back. I’m his.

I belong to Wes Novak.